


A Bobby Brown Christmas

by KingKarate



Series: Bobby x Johnny [1]
Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cobra Kai Secret Santa, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, There Is No Biphobia In This Dojo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28259742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingKarate/pseuds/KingKarate
Summary: Christmas 1986. Bobby Brown is back from college for the holidays, when he runs into his best friend, Johnny Lawrence.Written as a Cobra Kai Secret Santa 2020 gift. #cksecretsanta2020
Relationships: Bobby Brown/Johnny Lawrence
Series: Bobby x Johnny [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151681
Comments: 19
Kudos: 24
Collections: Cobra Kai Secret Santa Exchange





	1. That's what Christmas is all about, Bobby Brown.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InvisibleObserver13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleObserver13/gifts).



They hadn’t planned to end up here, like this. 

A chance meeting at the bookstore, shopping for gifts, had turned into a drink at a nearby bar, catching up. They’d kept things light, casual, not really letting on about any shitty things going on in their lives, and then they’d gone their separate ways, with plans to meet again before New Year’s. At least that was the plan, until they bumped into each other again, at the Christmas tree farm, just before closing. Both picking out the same tree.

“Are you kidding me?” Bobby asks, laughing.

Johnny looks incredulous. _“Bobby?”_

What are the chances of bumping into each other twice in the same day?

Pretty high, if you’ve known each other since middle school and you spent every day pretty much inseparable until you graduated high school, it turns out. That kinda time spent together makes you think an awful lot alike. Apparently, right down to your taste in Christmas trees.

“This tree’s mine, Brown. Back off,” Johnny warns, but it’s affectionate, a crinkle around his blue eyes that Bobby finds endearing. 

_Have they always been so blue? Has his hair always been so blond?_

“Don’t make me fight you for it, Johnny.”

“Why not? You’d lose.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m sorry, did you forget who’s the two-time All Valley Champ?”

The mention of karate comes natural as breathing, but it stings right after, like ice-cold winter air they don’t get in southern California.

“I guess so,” Bobby covers the awkward silence in that practiced way he’s always had. “Toss for it?”

“Fuck off, Bobby, the tree belongs to me.”

“Isn’t this tree a little small for your mom’s house?”

“It’s for my apartment. Isn’t it a little small for _yours?”_ Johnny asks. 

“It’s for my sister’s. But she can get her own, I guess. I’m just borrowing dad’s truck, and I was gonna help out. You got an apartment, huh?”

“Yeah. Wanna see?”

So they load the tree into Bobby’s truck, and Johnny gives him the address, although he didn’t really need to, since the traffic ain’t so bad, and he can keep his eye on the red car in front pretty much the whole way.

They get the tree into the apartment, with a moderate amount of effort. It’s easier with two, and even though Johnny’s strong, it’s hard to imagine him being able to do it alone, just because the thing’s so unwieldy. They get it set up in one corner of the apartment, where Johnny’s cleared a space for it.

Bobby looks around with wonder in his eyes.

Yeah the apartment is just a crappy little studio, but it's _Johnny’s,_ and being here in that space is just about the most interesting look into Johnny’s brain right now. It’s been a while since they both moved out of home, since Johnny gave up the big fancy house in Encino for this, and Bobby went off to college. But Bobby’s back for the holidays, so they’re gonna get the guys back together, and spend as much of this time as they can acting like there's been no distance at all.

There's a battered looking sofa, just big enough for two, and a TV in front of it, the one from his old bedroom, set on top of what must have been intended as a coffee table. The little kitchenette in the corner looks older than the both of them combined, and there's a lamp on the nightstand next to his bed, on the other side of the room, a couple of books stacked up next to it. Bobby’s enjoying taking it all in for the first time, while Johnny’s busy grabbing them drinks. Just beer, but cold from the fridge, and something about all of this is just so _perfect_ he can't help but smile.

“I know it's not much,” Johnny says, sorta nervously, “the plumbing is shit, and the neighbours are always fighting. But I've got a little garage I'm renting across the way, and I'd rather have that than a better apartment and park my car on the street.”

“It's _home,”_ Bobby says, reassuring. “You worked hard for this, on your own.”

Bobby knows how much it means that Johnny has struck out on his own, rather than go off to college himself and live the life his mom and Sid expected. It’s _freedom_. A life in a gilded cage is still not much of a life at all, but Johnny’s breaking free.

He looks happy, for the first time Bobby’s seen in a long, long time. If he'd been around a bit more often, he wouldn't have taken this long to notice. 

“What are you planning for Christmas?” he asks. 

Johnny's spent more than one holiday with Bobby's family in the past, when Sid insisted on going on vacation, leaving Johnny behind once he was old enough. But Johnny's on his own now, anyway, and they haven’t talked about it this year. Not until now. 

Johnny shrugs, casually as anything, and says, “Dunno. Mom and Sid are away.”

Bobby frowns. “You wanna come to ours? Becky misses you.”

A grin breaks into Johnny’s face, and it’s like the whole room lights up when that happens. _Has his smile always been so bright?_

“Sure. Sounds nice.”

There’s a long pause where they’re both smiling at each other, and it seems to drag on forever in the best way, but it always has to end, and Johnny’s the first to break the moment this time.

“You gonna help me decorate this thing, or are you just here to stand around and look cute?”

_He thinks I’m cute? No. Wishful thinking, Bobby Brown._

So they decorate the tree with the brightly coloured flashing lights and gaudy baubles that Johnny's bought and honestly there's too many of them for such a small tree and such a modest apartment and it's too much, but somehow _that_ in itself is so perfectly Johnny that it makes Bobby's heart soar.

A long time ago, Johnny used to hate the holidays, and Bobby has to think back on when that changed. He guesses it must have been somewhere around the same time Johnny became an honorary Brown, when their friendship had transcended blood family, when he’d been greeted at the door by Bobby’s mom’s hugs and his sister’s demands for attention too. 

He's starting to regret being so distant and distracted with college, because he'd do most anything to see Johnny more often, to have things be that way all the time. 

The glow from the tree lights, bright in the dim room, reflects in its many colours off Johnny's skin in a way that's oh so hard to look away from.

“What's up with you today, Bobby?” Johnny asks. 

_Oh shit, he must have caught me staring._

“Nothing,” Bobby covers quickly, shaking his head. “Just tired, I guess.”

“No shit. You wanna stay the night?” 

“Uh… Sure.”

“My couch sucks, though. You still cool sharing a bed?” 

They've shared a bed dozens of times over the years, it'd be _weird_ for that to change. He can't really say no. But there's this feeling, a little pile of gnawing, fluttering sensations tugging around his insides, that he doesn’t know quite what to do with.

“Uh… Sure.” he answers, catches the repetition, and instantly cringes in on himself.

Johnny raises an eyebrow, smirks, and downs the rest of his beer in one. “C’mon then, sleeping beauty, it’s late. I know if you don’t get a solid eight hours, you’ll be cranky.”

Bobby flushes, the blush so strong and hot on his cheeks he’s sure it has to be way past pink and into lobster-red. He prays Johnny doesn’t notice. Thankfully, like god is listening and taking pity on him for once, Johnny’s already turned away. 

But it’s a small room and there’s not really anywhere to look when Johnny pulls his shirt over his head, unbuckles his jeans and kicks them off. He’s seen Johnny in less than this, hundreds of times before. _We’ve_ _showered together, for Christ’s sake. What's wrong with me, now, all of a sudden?_ He takes a breath, tries to calm himself, and looks for the answer at the bottom of his beer. It isn't there. 

When Bobby looks back up, he finds Johnny standing just inside the bathroom, brushing his teeth, looking out at him. 

“Seriously?” he says, around a mouthful of toothpaste foam, suddenly looking much taller and more muscular and physically _intimidating_ than Bobby ever remembers, despite the totally relaxed demeanour. 

The recognition of this feeling dawns on him as sudden and forceful as a kick to the chest. It was the same feeling as when he'd had a crush on his babysitter, that one summer, an older girl who seemed to hold the entire world in the palm of her hand. She'd treated him with that same quiet, fond, _controlled_ affection now radiating off Johnny, and it's making him feel things. Things he hasn't felt since the babysitter moved away to college, things long forgotten once he had his first kiss. 

_Shit. I've got a crush. On Johnny._

Bobby nervously undresses, heart pounding in his chest like a virgin on prom night. He climbs into Johnny's bed and wills his body to relax, tenses each muscle then consciously releases. It's almost working until Johnny, warm and heavy, settles onto the bed next to him, and the shifting movement ruins all his progress. His breath hitches when their legs brush together the way they have done a million times before, in a million different situations. 

Johnny turns out the lamp and rolls inwards, so they're face to face. Bobby can't make out the look he's giving him, but his voice in the dark is as clear as a bell. 

“Bobby?” Johnny asks. 

“Yeah?” his voice comes out high, like it's breaking. He clears his throat. “Yeah, Johnny?” 

Johnny's breathing deeply, like he's working up the nerve to say something.

“I missed you, man.”


	2. Merry Christmas, Bobby Brown!

Christmas Day goes pretty much like every other in the Brown household. Bobby and Becky argue about trivial things, Johnny takes Becky’s side, Becky looks vindicated, and Bobby has to laugh at his little sister and his best friend ganging up on him. The familiarity of it is peaceful, and it looks good on Johnny. All of this does. 

Johnny’s never had much of a family, but bringing him into this one always seemed as natural as breathing. Bobby would have called him a brother, for the longest time, their friendship every bit as integral to his life as his annoying baby sister. 

The feeling Bobby’s having now is less brotherly. They pass in the doorway to the kitchen, where Bobby’s mom hung the mistletoe. Johnny notices it first. He smirks, amusement dancing across his features.

“Don’t even think it, Brown.” 

“As if.” Bobby rolls his eyes and shoves Johnny’s shoulder lightly, and they both laugh it off.

But now he’s thinking about kissing Johnny. He spends the rest of the afternoon thinking about it. Finds himself looking at Johnny’s lips when he’s talking, looking away, and desperately trying to put the thought out of his mind.

Bobby can’t stop imagining what it might be like. How his lips might feel, how he’d taste, how he’d smile when he pulled away. Bobby’s seen Johnny kiss girls before, but would he be the same? And what would it feel like to be on the receiving end of that attention?

Eventually the family breaks apart for the night. Bobby’s parents are watching TV, Becky’s running up a huge telephone bill talking to her boyfriend, and the two guys find themselves out on the porch together. The slight chill in the air makes them sit a bit closer together, unconsciously, until Bobby notices. Then he’s nothing _but_ conscious of their proximity. He’s staring a hole in the lawn, their legs unfolded down the steps, close enough that they're almost touching. 

“Earth to Bobby?” Johnny's fingers click in front of Bobby's face, making him blink back to reality. 

_“What?”_ Bobby snaps. He regrets it as soon as it happens. 

“Jeez, man. What is with you lately? You hung up on some chick? You only get like this when you're hung up on a chick.”

Bobby sighs and shakes his head. “It's not… It's not a girl.” 

_Shit. How do_ _I say this?_

“Then spill, cos I only see you, like, a few times a year now and I'm sick of you being elsewhere even when you're here.” Johnny nudges him, their shoulders connecting just enough to throw Bobby off balance.

 _This is Johnny,_ Bobby reminds himself. Johnny's never judged him for a thing in his life; that's not how they roll, and he doesn't see that either one of them is gonna start doing that now. But it doesn't make this easy. Maybe it's harder. 

A _quiet, accepting rejection would be worse, wouldn't it?_

“Johnny…” he begins, tentatively. “Have you ever thought about kissing someone who's… not a girl?” 

Johnny chuckles softly. “You mean, like, a guy?” 

“Yeah.”

He huffs out a breath and leans back on his hands. Bobby can't bring himself to look at his face. 

“I mean… Who hasn't, right?” 

Bobby blinks. That's _not_ the answer he was expecting. 

“People have thoughts. Doesn't mean you wanna do anything about 'em. And even if you do, whatever, y'know. As long as everyone's into it.”

“How the hell do you find out if someone's gonna be into it?” Bobby blurts out. 

“How do you find out with a girl, dumbass?”

“Oh yeah, sure, you’d _love_ it if I just leaned in and batted my eyelashes, waiting for you to close the distance?”

“Maybe I fuckin’ would, Bobby, don’t make assumptions.”

Bobby’s brain just shorted out. He’s gone insane. Maybe he’s in a coma and this is all some weird dream while his brain tries to put itself back together. “I’m sorry - _what?_ ”

“Pretty sure you heard.”

Bobby dares to look, and Johnny’s face is a picture. He’s got one eyebrow raised and the corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk. _Is Johnny always smirking?_

“You wanna?”

“Yeah, why not?”

This is new. Bobby turns to face him, tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding and his hands are shaking and his palms are sweating.

“Damnit, Johnny, if you’re screwing with me…” he starts, and finds himself cut short.

Johnny’s mouth is on his, and it’s everything he’d ever hoped, and better. His whole world is narrowed down to an instant, his best friend’s lips pressed against his own, hand cupping his cheek and pulling him closer, tongue teasing him open. And he’s willing, pliant, melting into it. His brain doesn’t compute. Doesn’t have to, thankfully, as he gives in to the kiss, opens his mouth, and lets Johnny do the work. It seems like it goes on forever, though it could only be a minute or two, no more.

Then it’s over, and they’re both breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together.

“You have _no fucking idea_ how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Johnny,” Bobby says, and is taken aback by how breathless he sounds.

Johnny laughs, light and outright _giddy._ There’s everything he’s ever loved about Johnny wrapped up in it. Bobby can’t help but respond in kind.

“What was _that?”_

“Did you get distracted? Do I need to do it again?” Johnny chuckles.

Something about the way Johnny brushes his nose across Bobby’s makes him almost swoon. He has to dig deep, muster the resolve to respond with anything but a needy sigh. “Yeah, you fucking do.”

“Alright.”

There’s a _lot_ of big things to figure out after this, but for now, Bobby lets him be pulled back into another kiss. College, distance, work schedules? They can figure out everything else in the light of day. Right now, it’s Christmas, and Bobby thinks he finally found the reason for the season.

_Love._


End file.
